‘Empathy is as available as the sun, the air and the rain’
Editor’s note: Hearst Connecticut Media Editorial Page Editor John Breunig delivered this speech Friday to Sacred Heart University’s first initiates into Phi Kappa Phi, “the nation’s oldest and most selective alldiscipline honor society.”
First, I’m going to take a picture of all of you so I can use this as a column:
Now let’s put the phones away.
Good morning. Let’s start a conversation.
Don’t worry. At least for now, I’ll do all of the talking.
In my column last week, I wrote: “Call it woke. Call it DEI. I call it empathy.”
Not surprisingly, a reader hurled those words back at me.
“Call it woke. Call it DEI. I call you …”
Let’s just say he called me something I can’t repeat here or put in the newspaper.
Now that’s no way to start a conversation.
Empathy isn’t reserved for one political party, one class, one gender. It’s as available as the sun, the air and the rain.
I do believe empathy can be learned. But like math or the date of historic battles, it can also be forgotten. And like anything worthwhile, it will always require a little work.
Over the last decade, I’ve written a lot about my son, referring to him in columns only as “The Kid.” We adopted him shortly after he was born drug-addicted 12and-a-half years ago. He has autism. A year ago, he was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.
On occasion, my wife has tried to guide him with the words, “all we ask is that you be kind.”
That faith has, on occasion, been rewarded. When he was 7, he cherished a new stuffed toy he got during a visit to Santa Claus in New York. Upon exiting Macy’s he spotted a homeless man on the sidewalk and offered his new treasure to the stranger. That moment felt like a miracle on 34th Street.
Two years later, on the Fourth of July 2020, we took a drive through Connecticut because there were no Independence Day festivities during the pandemic. We stopped in New Haven, where we passed a woman sitting on the sidewalk near Yale who asked us for money to buy food.
“Hold on,” the Kid, then 8, told her.
He ran into a nearby Taco Bell and brought her back a meal.
He’s now 12, so he’s still struggling with the answer to that timeless debate question, “Is it better to give or to receive?” But I’m encouraged every time I see him insist on getting a present for a new friend, even if he wraps and re-gifts something of mine he found in the basement
My son’s secret weapon is that he’s on the end of the spectrum that nudges him to want to meet every stranger. He is a seeker.
He likes to start conversations.
I’ve always hesitated to tuck the characteristics of different generations into tidy little boxes. But I think the secret weapon of many of you in Gen Z is a shared passion for social justice. College students send me commentary pieces about the environment, affordable housing, criminal justice and immigration.
So I’m inspired by Gen Z. I’m also a little worried about you.
My wife is a teacher. We teamed up to teach a course last year. The first time we held a virtual class, I looked at the screen, turned the mic off, covered my mouth and muttered “what’s going on?”
I wasn’t used to a classroom with zero eye contact.
I was with more than 30 people yet felt very alone. Only one or two students had their screens on. Some, of course, had valid reasons for this.
As a journalist, I don’t really do interviews. I have conversations. As a teacher, I have no interest in delivering soliloquies. When I walk into a classroom, it saddens me to see so many students transfixed by their cell phones. It’s not healthy to always communicate with our thumbs.
I’ve had the privilege of meeting people who have black belts in the art of conversation.
A decade ago, I got an email from a source suggesting I meet Mike Duggan, who runs Domus, a Connecticut nonprofit that helps children who are disengaged.
“I think you’ll have a good conversation,” she wrote.
I showed up to meet Mike, but his colleague who set up our summit was out sick. We were just two strangers in a big empty room. Mike started the conversation like he was on a game show. Within two or three moves, he deduced that a nun who taught me in second grade was his wife’s aunt.
Lock two people alone in a room together and they can find common ground. It’s when we can’t meet face to face that we become guarded.
The course my wife and I teach focuses on journalism films. In the 1952 movie “Deadline USA,” a seasoned editor played by Humphrey Bogart explains the difference between a job and a profession to a wannabe newshound.
“A profession is a performance for public good. That’s why newspaper work is a profession,” Bogie says as only Bogie can.
I’m not trying to lure you into a newsroom career. But I do encourage you to seek a profession that challenges you to serve others. To give more than you receive.
I tell stories for a living. Whenever I’m in need of a story to tell, I reach out to the nonprofits in our communities. Fairfield County has one of the widest wealth gaps in the United States, so there are far too many stories to tell. There are also heroes out there who turned empathy into careers.
I’m guilty of sometimes missing the most obvious stories. During the holiday season, we publish anonymous anecdotes about people in need in the hope that strangers will donate money to help them.
For decades I thought the clients were applying for the funds themselves. It was only when I asked — when I initiated a conversation — that I discovered the truth. Staff members were recognizing simple needs that could have profound impact on their clients’ lives and asking on their behalf. The people we identified as “Mister X” or “Ms. J” only learned the truth when a wish was granted in the form of something like a wheelchair or the payment of heating bills.
One of the social workers told me, “The gratitude, that’s what makes us feel good. That’s why we are here.”
Consider that Exhibit A of why it is better to give than to receive.
I prowled through our newspaper archives to research Phi Kappa Phi and found generations of members who later turned into subjects of columns I wrote about their charitable work.
If you’re looking for a model member of Phi Kappa Phi, I point you
‘I prefer the verb form of empathy. So be a verb. Empathize. Be a seeker.’
to Jimmy Carter. His legacy as a humanitarian and champion of social justice is framed by his work after his tenure as president. Connecticut continues to fail to unite our towns and cities to address the urgent need for more affordable housing. Jimmy Carter left the White House and spent the next 40 years building homes around the world.
Can you imagine the conversations President Carter had along the way?
Now it’s your turn to keep the conversation going. A few tips:
• It’s better to share a meal with a stranger than to dine alone.
• It’s better to share a story than to lock it in a diary.
• It’s better to get lost once in a while than to keep following the GPS to the same places.
• Always have an icebreaker handy. I’ve learned a lot about people by asking, “What’s the best gift you ever gave or received?”
We never have to graduate from learning. Long after school is over, strangers can be our teachers.
Congratulations on joining rarified company as members of Phi Kappa Phi. Please use your superpowers for good. Today is as good a time as any to introduce yourself to a stranger. You all have stories to share.
I prefer the verb form of empathy. So be a verb. Empathize. Be a seeker.
Now, let’s start some conversations.